


part of something

by owlinaminor



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/F, Gen, M/M, background daisuga, background kagehina - Freeform, yachi is very very gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 20:27:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5062915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlinaminor/pseuds/owlinaminor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hitoka sighs, rests her head on her folded arms, and wonders if she was always this incredibly gay.</p>
<p>(a day in the life of the Karasuno managers)</p>
            </blockquote>





	part of something

**Author's Note:**

> so, i told [izzy](http://dancesofdarkness.tumblr.com/) that if she requested something, i'd write her 500 words for her birthday. somehow, the fic ended up at almost six times that, and it is no longer technically her birthday. go figure.
> 
> anyway, izzy, i hope you had a wonderful day and have an even more wonderful year. <3

_5:05 A.M._

Shimizu Kiyoko opens her eyes slowly, blinking against the warm light of the morning sun.  She allows herself thirty seconds of rest – peaceful, quiet, the tune of a song she listened to yesterday running through her head – before sitting up, slipping on a sports bra and athletic shorts, and grabbing her phone and headphones from the night table.

It’s time to go for a run.

The morning opens its arms for her willingly, country roads stretching eagerly towards the sun.  Everything is peaceful and quiet this early, the sun just poking its sleepy head above the horizon.  The world is painted in reds and purples, and Kiyoko dives into it cleanly.  Her shadow is indiscernible from the landscape around her.

This morning, she makes a new personal record.

* * *

_6:01 A.M._

Yachi Hitoka rolls out of bed.

She bumps her shoulder on the ground this time – missed the rug ever so slightly, as usual.  But at least she’s awake, now.

The uniform she set out last night awaits her, hanging on her closet door.  Hitoka stumbles into it, jumping around the room as she stuffs the correct legs into the correct legging parts, then heads into the bathroom.  Once convinced that she doesn’t look entirely terrible, she checks her backpack to make sure she hasn’t forgotten anything, slings it over her shoulder, and grabs her shoes.

She has a fairly set routine, by now.  It’s easy enough to cook some rice, scramble an egg, and grab some dried fruit from the side-table, then eat quickly while scrolling through some websites on her phone.  Before she leaves, she makes sure to turn on the fancy, French coffeemaker – when it starts beeping, it’ll wake her mom up.

She slips on her jacket and shoes, unlocks and opens the door.  “Bye, mom,” she whispers to the quiet apartment.

Hitoka shuts the door quietly behind her, then dances off down the hallway.  She’s determined not to be late this morning.

* * *

_6:45 A.M._

Hitoka arrives at the entrance to the gym, bouncing up and down in a small victory dance.  She’s never gotten to practice this early before!

She’s never ... gotten to practice this early before.

“Um, good morning?” she practically squeaks, suddenly frozen in the chilly air.

Hinata and Kageyama jump apart, like a spring released from coiling.  _Oh, my God,_ Hitoka thinks.  _I just saw them making out?!  What will they do?  Will they be mad?  Will Kageyama glare at me?  Will_ Hinata _glare at me?  Will they kill me to prevent me from telling anyone?  I can’t die now, Shimizu-san went to so much effort to find a new manager –_

“Can you.  Please,” Hinata says.  His face is burning, brighter red than any strawberry.  He won’t meet her eyes.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Kageyama finishes for her.  _His_ face, somehow, is even redder than Hinata’s.

“I won’t!” Hitoka replies quickly.  “I absolutely won’t!  I’ll forget I ever saw anything!”

“Forget you ever saw what?” someone asks from behind her.

All three first-years turn, practically in slow-motion, to see Kiyoko standing behind them.  The keys to the gym dangle from her hand, and there’s an almost uncharacteristic smirk on her face.

Kageyama’s face goes white.

“Don’t worry,” Kiyoko says.  “The third-years already knew.  You two aren’t exactly subtle.  Now, come on.”  She steps past them to unlock the door.  “Let’s go in, it’s freezing.”

The three first-years don’t exactly have any choice but to follow.

* * *

_7:07 A.M._

A head peeks in from the doorway.

“Hey!  Mind if I come in?” a cheerful voice asks.

Daichi glances in its direction from where he’s directing warm-up.  “You’re always welcome, Michimiya,” he says.  “What can I do for you?”

Michimiya comes inside, a colorful beanie on her head and a smile as bright as the sun on her face.  “Thanks, Sawamura, but I actually have a question for Shimizu.”

At the mention of her name, Kiyoko looks up from her clipboard.  Michimiya traipses across the gym, careful to swerve around stray balls.

“So, our team didn’t used to have a manager,” Michimiya says, plopping down next to Kiyoko on the bench, “but we’ve got one for next year, and she has all of these questions that I have no idea how to answer.  Do you think you could maybe –”

“Yes,” Kiyoko answers immediately.  “Yes.  Of course.”

* * *

_9:49 A.M._

Hitoka has never needed to pee this badly in her life.  Her bladder is literally about to explode and leave little bladder pieces all over her insides.  It will be disgusting and terrible, and she might not ever recover.

She doesn’t know why she waited until the end of the test to go – she rushed through the test instead of really trying – she probably made so many stupid mistakes – she’s going to fail and have to work as a janitor – she can’t work as a janitor, she has no idea how those retractable mops work –

Hitoka picks her head up slowly.  She sees first massive, red headphones, then a disapproving frown, and finally apathetic, golden eyes, staring right at her.

“Oh, my God – Tsukkishima-san – I am _so sorry_ – I didn’t mean to bump into you, I swear – I just really needed to pee – why am I _telling_ you that –”

“It’s fine,” Tsukkishima interrupts.  “Just watch where you’re going next time.”

He stomps off in the opposite direction, and Hitoka stares after him for a long moment, wondering – not for the first time – how he can walk so incredibly fast.

* * *

_10:38 A.M._

Kiyoko should be paying attention to her teacher.

She _should_ be.  She’s _supposed_ to be.  Taking good notes is vital to getting good grades, after all.  But then, on the other hand – she knows this material already, she’s confident that she can ace the upcoming exam without asking any questions right now, and, well.  She _really_ needs to figure out the drill schedule for next week.

Kiyoko turns to a blank page in her notebook and begins sketching out a chart.  If they do _this_ drill on Monday, then they can’t do it again on Tuesday, but they can have more practice matches on Tuesday – but that means, so as not to overwork them, an easier day on Wednesday – but what are easier, lighter drills that still develop skills effectively?

Before long, the page is covered with dark, black ink.  Kiyoko’s handwriting tends to get less and less legible the more she writes, so she might not be able to understand this later, but at least she’ll have done something.

* * *

_12:09 P.M._

“Hey, Kiyoko!” Daichi greets her cheerfully.  “What took you so long?”

Kiyoko slides into the seat next to him at the third-years’ lunch table.  “Sorry, I was just grabbing something from Takeda-sensei,” she explains.

“Grabbing what?” Suga asks, leaning forward.  He takes advantage of his changed position to steal a piece of edamame from Daichi’s lunch.  Daichi shoots him a glare, but it’s obligatory at best.

“Papers,” Kiyoko says.  “For something.”

“What?”  It’s Asahi who asks, this time.

Kiyoko lets out a tiny smile.  “It’s a surprise.”

“Surprise end-of-the-year celebration?” Daichi wonders.

“Tell us!” Suga exclaims.  “Tell us!  Tell us!  Tell us!”

“You sound like a kid,” Daichi reprimands him.

Suga grins in response – and Daichi very obviously loses his train of thought.  Perhaps all trains of thought.  Perhaps, even, an entire railway system of thought.

Asahi shoots a pointed look at Kiyoko: _Look at them, aren’t they disgusting?_

Kiyoko simply shrugs and takes out her lunch.  _Yeah, they are, but we can’t really do anything about it._

* * *

_12:26 P.M._

“Yaaaaaaachi!  Yachi!  Yachi!”

Hinata barrels through the hallways like a tornado, leaving confusion and destruction in his wake.  Kageyama follows at equal speed, albeit not nearly as loud.  The two of them land at Hitoka’s desk together, slam their hands down on top of it with matching sonic booms.  Her lunch nearly goes flying.

“Y-yes?” she stammers.  “What is it?”

“This question is _the most!  Confusing!  Thing!  I’ve ever!  Seen!_ ” Hinata shouts.  He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper, which he holds out in front of her face as though it contains some crucial secret of the universe.

“I’m sorry, I – I can’t really read it like that,” Hitoka says.  She’s sure everyone in her class is looking at her, but Hinata doesn’t seem to care.

Without a word, Kageyama grabs the paper, smooths it out, and hands it to Hitoka.  The question seems to be about an old haiku, asking what the cherry blossoms symbolize and why the poet would wish to make that comparison.

“Oh, this is simple!” she exclaims.  “See, it’s ...”

Hinata and Kageyama pull up two empty chairs, and – oh, it seems as though they’ve brought their half-finished lunches over, too.  Okay.

* * *

_2:43 P.M._

Kiyoko examines her hair in the bathroom mirror.

She’s rather pleased with how her side-ponytail turned out this morning – her hair falls gracefully to one side, effortless and not the slightest bit frizzy.  She runs the edges of her hair between her fingers, the soft strands tickling her fingertips.  Yes, this looks nice, but what if her hair looks nicer down?  What if her part is in precisely the right place today?  Wouldn’t it be best to see now, before she has to tie it back up for practice in an hour?

Kiyoko pulls gently at her scrunchie and lets her hair fall across her shoulders in one even sweep, like a wave coming into shore.  Yes, she thinks, taking a step back.  Good decision.

As she heads back to class, she wonders idly what Hitoka would look like with her hair grown out.

* * *

_2:48 P.M._

Hitoka stares out the window.

She enjoys school, really – loves the moment of excitement that comes with finally understanding something, the fierce pride that accompanies a well-deserved test grade.  She’s so anxious to learn everything she can, as though her mind is aching to fill with knowledge.  But sometimes – sometimes, school is just so _boring._

Especially now, when the teacher is droning on about hydrogen bonds (something she figured out last week) and she’d rather be at volleyball practice.  Watching the boys hit the volleyball through the air so fast she fears it’ll break the floorboards, hearing them shout, standing next to Kiyoko -

Hitoka still can’t quite believe, sometimes, that she gets to stand next to someone as beautiful as Kiyoko.  That this girl, with her kind eyes and her calm smile and her quiet, unwavering strength – she stands next to Hitoka.  Talks to Hitoka.  Sometimes even laughs with Hitoka, with this surprised laugh that bubbles up out, bright and brilliant as the first stars in the night sky.

Hitoka sighs, rests her head on her folded arms, and wonders if she was always this incredibly gay.

* * *

_3:52 P.M._

Kiyoko serves the ball to Ennoshita before practice officially starts, helping him practice his receives.

“Thanks for doing this, Shimizu-san,” he says.  His fists meet the ball in a loud _smack_!

She smiles at him, then carefully aims another serve.  “Thank _you_ for putting in the extra practice.”

Ennoshita’s cheeks tinge pink, and he rubs the back of his neck – and subsequently fails to notice the ball.  It bounces off the floor near the far wall, and he runs after it.

“I’m just trying to get better!” he exclaims.

“You’re working hard,” Kiyoko tells him, taking a few steps forward so that he can send the ball back to her.  “Everyone thinks you’re going to be captain next year, you know.”

“I ... _What_?” Ennoshita says, his eyes wide.  “No.  No way.”

“Well.” Kiyoko looks at him sternly from beneath her glasses.  “Not if you keep missing balls, I bet.”

* * *

  _4:44 P.M._

“ _Incoming!”_

Hitoka barely sees the ball.  She only knows that something rushes towards her, whips closer at increasingly dangerous speeds – her arm moves, almost of its own accord – there’s a loud _SMACK!_

The ball is gone.

And then, everyone in the gym starts clapping.

“Yachi, that was such a good spike!” Hinata shouts.  “You were like _BWAH!_ And  _GWAH!_ "

“I – I was?” Hitoka asks.

The others nod – even Tsukkishima, albeit sullenly.

“That was great, Hitoka-chan,” Shimizu says.  Hitoka glances up at the older manager, and – she’s smiling, and her grin is so beautiful Hitoka can’t bear to look at it for more than a second.

So instead, Hitoka looks down at her hand.  Her palm is red and raw, like Hinata’s right after his and Kageyama’s quick strike.  It stings, but the pain is warm, somehow.  Real.  Like pride.

* * *

_5:13 P.M._

“Hey, what’re you guys looking at?” Hitoka asks.

“Something incredible,” Hinata says, not looking at her.

“You mean, something _terrifying_ ,” Kageyama corrects him.

“What?  What is it?”  Half the team is clustered around Nishinoya, and Hitoka is – as usual – too short to see what’s going on.  She tries standing up on her tiptoes, but nearly falls forward into Asahi.

“Noya found Oikawa’s Instagram!” Tanaka explains.  “It’s ridiculous!”

“What’s on it?  Can I see?”

“There are all these pictures of girls!  Really pretty girls!” Hinata shouts.

“Pictures of him serving,” Yamaguchi adds.  “How did he take those?”

“Don’t underestimate Oikawa, he’ll do anything to look cool,” Kageyama grumbles.

“I just feel bad for Iwaizumi,” Sugawara remarks.  “Look, he’s completely cut out by Oikawa’s peace sign in this one.”

“You guys are wasting time,” Tsukkishima says, from directly behind Hitoka.  She gasps and stands aside to make room, but he doesn’t need it – he just leans over her, like a tall, bending palm tree.  “You’re all idi – wait, what’s that?”

“What’s what?” Hitoka asks.  She bounces up and down, trying to see better, but nobody hears her – an important discovery has apparently been made.

“He tagged someone in this photo!”

“What is this username – shiratorizawa_1?”

“I don’t know, click on it!”

“Oh, my god.”

“It’s – it’s Ushiwaka!”

“ _Holy shit_.”

“He only has one picture.”

“ _Click.  On.  It._ ”

“It’s ... it’s ... him standing in a field.  Wearing overalls?  Is he supposed to be some kind of farmer?”

“This ... is the greatest day of my life.”

And then, suddenly, the Karasuno boys’ volleyball team goes down like a set of dominoes around Hitoka.  Hinata is on the floor, Tanaka is throwing Nishinoya into the air, Asahi looks as though he might faint, and Sugawara is laughing so hard, he’s crying.  Hitoka isn’t entirely sure what’s going on, but it seems like the boys are happy, so she’s excited for them.

She glances across the gym and catches Kiyoko’s eye.  Kiyoko gives her a thumbs-up.

* * *

_5:59 P.M._

“How do they do it?” Takeda asks, a tone of quiet awe in his voice.

Kiyoko turns to him.  The coach is staring out towards the center of the gym, a look of quiet wonder on his face not unlike that of a small child seeing an elephant for the first time.  She follows his gaze to the practice match currently taking place – the fourth of the afternoon, but possibly the most energetic.  Hinata is jumping, Tanaka is shouting, Asahi’s hair is slipping out of its bun.  Kageyama and Sugawara are apparently having some kind of contest for who can set the closest to the net without letting the ball get out.  Nishinoya, Daichi, and even Ennoshita are literally roaring as they make successful receives.  Tsukkishima blocks with more force than Kiyoko has ever seen him block before.  Yamaguchi is practically going hoarse.  They’ve been here for hours – and that’s not counting practice this morning, or yesterday, or last week, or all the weeks before that – but their energy level is still as high as it was on the first day of school.  Kiyoko wonders, sometimes, if these boys ever truly get tired.

“I don’t know, sensei,” Kiyoko answers honestly.  “But aren’t you glad they do?”

Takeda nods.  And then, he nods again.  And a third time, for further emphasis.

“I am,” he says.  “I am.”

“I am, too,” Kiyoko replies.

* * *

_6:21 P.M._

“Oh, Hitoka-chan, are you heading out?”

Hitoka pauses in pulling on her jacket, one sleeve hanging abandoned.  _I’d stay here forever if you wanted me to, Shimizu-san,_ she distinctly doesn’t say.

“I was going to?” she says, instead.  “Why?”

Kiyoko stands in the doorway to the gym, leaning up against the frame.  She looks like a painting, with the early evening sunset falling across her face.  “The third-years and I are going to get soba.  Want to come?”

“With – with you?” Hitoka squeaks.  “And the _third-years_?  Is that _allowed_?”

Kiyoko laughs – that quiet, astonished laugh that Hitoka would do anything for.  “Of course it’s _allowed_ ,” she replies.  “You’re important to the team, why shouldn’t you be part of our unofficial meetings?”

“ _Unofficial meetings?!_   But, Shimizu-san, I don’t have my notes, I don’t –”

“Hey.  Relax.”  Kiyoko steps away from the door – and then, suddenly, she’s behind Hitoka, helping her into her jacket, bending to grab Hitoka’s backpack, draping it lightly over her shoulder.  Kiyoko’s touch is feather-light and Hitoka would swear that goosebumps rise on every square centimeter of her body.

“It’ll be fun,” Kiyoko goes on.  “Daichi will pay.  And he and Suga might – well, not might, they _will_ – flirt disgustingly the whole time, but that’s ignorable.  So, what do you say?”

“I’ll – I’ll have to call my mom and tell her I won’t be home for dinner,” Hitoka says, still not quite believing her ears.

“Oh, of course, go ahead!” Kiyoko replies.  “But you should come.  And don’t be nervous – you’re part of our team, now.  You’re part of something special.”

“Part of something special,” HItoka repeats.  “Okay.”

They step out together into the waning sunlight, and Hitoka wonders at this – this lightness in her chest, this tiny bird stretching its wings and lifting off.  This feeling of flying.

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me more about the beautiful girls of hq!! on [tumblr](http://officialyachihitoka.tumblr.com/).


End file.
